


A Crowned Minstrel

by Pie_pecans_and_parrots



Series: Those With Dark In Their Hearts [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Amilyne is a BAMF, F/M, Fellowship of the Ring, JUST KISS ALREADY, Protective Legolas Greenleaf, Queen - Freeform, Queen Amilyne, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pie_pecans_and_parrots/pseuds/Pie_pecans_and_parrots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amilyne has lived through the Battle of the Five Armies, and now has the task of rebuilding her broken people. Friendships are formed, and destinies intertwined.</p><p>(pre-lotr)<br/>(Sorta a filler before we get into it, not nesecary to read, but if you like Ami, and wanna watch her and a bunch of other kids get into all sorts of adventures, read on. baby eowyn, eomer, aragorn and frodo)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Calben laughed with his fellow guard, as they watched one of the younger elves trip over a hidden stone. The journey had been easy so far, and their cargo was safe.  
The King Thranduil had sent him along on the journey to the new Fae settlement, and he was looking forward to seeing the fae he had met briefly after the battle for the mountain. She had been afraid then, he had seen it in her, but she was remarkably clear headed for someone who had lost so much.

A call from the front two elves made the rest of them snap their heads to the front. A top a grassy knoll stood two figures. One was unmistakably an elf, and the other was smaller, almost childlike in comparison. Calben squinted, and his eyes picked out slate grey hair, and sharp ears. One of the other fae.

The elf and the fae started down the hill towards them, and Calben called out in greeting, “Ho there! We come on the behalf of King Thranduil!”

The elf was dressed in light armour, with gold edges. From Mirkwood – he must’ve joined the camp after going out with Thranduil’s message. The Fae had ill-fitting leather clothing, and a breastplate. His eyes were a deep amber colour, almost red, and it contrasted startlingly with his pale skin and grey hair. “Well met, friends.” The fae inclined his head. “I am Gillos, captain-in-training of the guard.” 

The elf next to him also bowed his head in welcome. “Mae-govannen, I am Neliran. I will send someone to help you with your well-wanted supplies. If you would come and see the Lady with me.” Calben frowned, but nodded anyway.  
Who had stepped up to take command?

He kept an eye out for the green haired fae around the large camp. Elves, fae, Gondor men and even a few dwarves were everywhere, with rows of tents. A group of grey, brown and white haired fae children danced across his path, laughing wildly. Past a group of elvish style tents, he could see a group of Fae training with various elves, some wearing Lorien armour and others in Rivendell clothing. It seemed that the Mirkwood elves were late to the party. But in saying this, he didn’t see any men from Rohan, and he knew they were near the Gap.

Gillos was called away from them by a small fae girl, who looked about ready to burst into tears. He scooped her up quickly, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded eagerly, and put her arms around his neck. Calben smiled at her, and she shied away from him, burying her face in the fae’s neck. They approached a tent, similar to the style of various others, with the exception of it being a bit bigger. Gillos, still holding the little fae, ducked his head inside. He disappeared in the tent, leaving the two elves outside.

Calben turned to Neliran. “What is the lady like?” he asked curiously. The elf smiled lightly,

“Nothing like you would expect. She-”

“Come in.” they both turned at Gillos’ voice, and ducked inside the tent. The first thing Calben noticed, was the Lady Galadriel sitting against one wall of the tent, emitting the glow she was so famous for. 

“Bereth Galadriel.” He breathed, bowing low to her. The elvish queen nodded her head gently,

“Mae-govannen, Calben of Taur-nu-Fuin.” Her voice was deeper than he had expected, but still overwhelmingly light. He straightened, keeping a hand against his heart, as he turned to face the Lady of the Fae.

She was kneeling beside the oak desk that she had been sitting at, one hand on the small child’s cheek, the other holding the child’s hand. As he watched, she whispered something in the child’s ear. The child laughed and gave her a quick hug, before bowing to her and Galadriel. Gillos ruffled the child’s hair as she passed him. The Lady straightened, and he realised with a sudden jolt that her hair was the bright green of grass.

She was wearing long dark boots, over the top of lighter leather leggings, and around her waist was a navy skirt, trimmed with dangling wooden beads. A tight leather corset-vest was layered on top of a billowy sleeved shirt, the same colour as the skirt-waist tie, it was quite open, exposing some cleavage and her collarbones. He finished his assessment at her face, and sucked in a start as he found her bright purple eyes watching him in amusement. He blushed lightly, before realizing exactly who he was looking at. “Amilyne Syldriad!” he exclaimed, before remembering himself. He dropped to one knee, ears flushing along with his cheeks. “I mean, my lady.”

Amilyne chuckled merrily, and took her own time to inspect the elf in front of her.  
“I know you…” she tapped her chin in thought. “I apologize, but I cannot place you.” she smiled, and Calben returned her enthusiasm.

“I believe it was I who escorted you to the King after the battle.” Her face fell for a second, before she perked up.

“Yes, that was it.”

“I am Calben, My Lady.” He bowed again, and she dipped her head, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Well met, Calben.” Amilyne turned to Galadriel. “Galadriel, I hope you won’t mind if I show Calben to where his herbs are intended to go? I look forward to continuing our talk.”

“Of course, Amilyne.” The great elven lady inclined her head, and stood, “I was hoping to get a look at the books brought in by my elves. I admit, I am not entirely sure which made it into the collection.” Amilyne smiled, letting the lady leave before her. Calben was impressed. Already on first name basis with the lady of Lothlorien.

Amilyne turned to him. “Now, Calben, shall we inspect your goods?” Calben nodded, and followed the small woman out of the tent. In the light, the sun revealed a thin scar along her left cheekbone, and the freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. 

Gillos and Neliran fell into step behind them, and even Calben caught the roll of the lady’s eyes. Amilyne let out an exasperated huff, and Calben turned to her questioningly. She met his gaze, eyes dancing. “They insist on following me everywhere. Just makes me feel like I’m going to be attacked.” 

Neliran’s lips twitched in amusement, “My lady, that’s exactly why we’re here.” She shook her head,

“Now, Neliran, you know as well as I do, that I can look after myself.” Amilyne’s hands went to her belt, and Calben’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful dagger in a dwarven made sheath. 

“Until you can best me, my lady, we will escort you.” Neliran said, and Gillos nodded decisively. The Lady scowled, but looked away with a hint of a smile.


	2. 2

“What do you think of our enterprise, Calben?”

Calben lowered his gaze to the fae woman beside him. They stood on a hill that allowed them to see over the tents and half built buildings dotting the rolling countryside. She was regarding everything with a gentle smile, lit up by the gold of the setting sun – and not for the first time – Calben was struck by her wild beauty. Realizing she wanted his honest opinion, he collected his thoughts – blushing lightly at his train of thought. “My Lady, I think that if this is the progress you’ve made in 3 months – then you will have a kingdom to marvel at within the year. And I think you are a kind, just, and most beautiful ruler.”

Amilyne huffed a little embarrassed chuckle. “I thank you for the compliment, Calben. I try – very hard – to be the ruler they deserve.” She was still for a moment more, eyes far away, smile twisting into something a little sadder. Then she visibly snapped out of it. Clapping her hands, she turned with a smile to the three men assembled behind her. “Shall we check on the progress of dinner?”

 

* * *

 

Calben watched as fae, elves, men, and dwarves moved around each other in a well-practiced routine, collecting and dishing out food to all. Nervously, he joined the line behind a dark haired man, who was laughing at something the server was saying. He looked behind himself to make sure that he was actually part of a line, and was brought back to attention by a soft voice.

“Excuse me, master elf?”

He turned around to the front.

And almost fell to his knees.

Because there was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen – well, fae.

She was a bit taller than the other female fae around – with the exception of the Lady – and had the lightest brown eyes he’d ever seen, almost yellow, and long chestnut brown hair, that curled softly down, down to her elbows. Half was pushed back behind one of her long and delicately pointed ears, secured with a yellow wildflower.

Calben became aware that his mouth was hanging open. He shut it with an audible click, making the fae smile lightly. “My lady, w-what is your name?” he asked moving forward, and offering her his plate as he spoke. She flushed, her ears and cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

“I am no lady, sir. I am Emmila, sir.” She said lightly, and handed his plate back to him.

“And I am no sir. Please – call me Calben.” He bowed low, and heard an indignant ‘hey!’ behind him, as a fae got a face full. “Oh! Sorry, little sir!” he brushed down the fae hastily, and turned back to Emmila, who was giggling behind her hand. Despite his embarrassment, he smiled at her pealing laughter. “will you – that is – would you like to, sit with me to eat?” he asked, smiling at her with what he hoped was a winning smile.

Emmila shook her head, smiling regretfully. “I cannot.” At the sight of his face falling, she hastened to assure him, “I wish I could, but I must sit with the Lady. I am her handmaiden, and her companion.”

Calben’s face brightened. “Ah! I understand. Well, I will just have to find you after. Thank you, Emmila.” With a last bow of his head, he strode off to find a seat at one of the several long tables that were arranged so they were perpendicular to slightly smaller but thicker table that was in the roughly middle of the line of tables. Calben could see the two rulers, Lady Amilyne and Lady Galadriel already seated, talking quietly amongst themselves, Galadriel bending her long neck to talk to Amilyne in an almost comical height difference.

He found a seat at the end bench of one of the tables, and if he turned his head directly left, he could see the lady. His eyes fell instantly upon Emmila as she sat on Amilyne’s right, and although he was still aware of the green haired fae’s beauty, something about Emmila made him unable to tear his eyes away. She looked up, and for a second he was lost in her honey-like gaze, until she smiled lightly, and looked away again. Calben blinked quickly, berating himself for being creepy and staring.

 

* * *

 

Amilyne watched her people as the last stragglers filed in to take a seat at the tables. Finally, Gillos and Neliran walked in, Gillos sitting next to Galadriel, Neliran taking a seat on the seat next to her handmaiden. She met her companion’s wide eyed gaze, and smiled at the Goldentree fae.

She was a sweet girl, and her father had been instrumental to bringing in the rest of her large family, which was making up about 40% of their Goldentree Fae population. She needed someone to tell her what to wear, and to help her with her hair when she needed to look regal – no matter how much she hated people waiting on her – and Emmila Greilin was a good choice, as she was soft-spoken and gentle. Sometimes it was what she needed when she was lost in herself.

“I have a patrol due to swap in half an hour, my Lady.” Gillos said across Emmila, who just smiled at them both. Amilyne inclined her head, and then raised her marble goblet, courtesy of Gondor, and stood. The sweet elfish wine filling it turned the thin white a light pink, and the candlelight made the darkness outside the assembled people a little less frightening.

“ _Mo chaired_ , my friends. I thank you for the work today, and just as we should thank the sun and earth for its continued blessings.” She closed her eyes, _“Cré beannaithe_.” The echo of her blessing swelled around her for a second before she opened her eyes and continued; “My gratitude goes especially to our latest envoy of elves – if you haven’t seen them all, well, they’re here and you should probably get your eyes checked,” there was a smattering of laughter. “You have all achieved so much, just as you always do – and I regret not being able to work among you today, but as tomorrow’s sun dawns, we will begin the Great Hall. I am honoured to be among you, and so, to everyone, I say – enjoy the food and wine and then have a hard earned rest! Cheers!” there was a cheers, and then slight silence as everyone took a swig of whatever drink they had, before the warmth of laughter and chatter spread across them all.

Amilyne sat back, and speared a chunk of trout from the river, chewing thoughtfully. Galadriel looked at her seriously. “You do not wear the ring.”

Amilyne sighed. “I am afraid.” Her hand went to her hidden breast pocket, where she could feel the warmth of the metal, and it appeared to throb under her grasp. She bit her lip, looking into Galadriel’s grey gaze. “I know that my father wore it, and he was a great bearer, but I cannot see how I can measure up to that. The power contained… I cannot-”

“You must.” Galadriel’s voice was firm. “You cannot put it off forever. Your race is strong; your blood is strong – even if you do not realise it. I would see you wearing it before I depart.” She put her cool hand over Amilyne’s. “The time has come for you to assume your title.”

  
Amilyne swallowed nervously, rubbing the ring through the fabric absently. “I understand, Lady Galadriel. Forgive me for my foolish hesitance.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I only wish your parents and Neridha were here to see you. They would be so proud of what you have done.”

Amilyne smiled tightly, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes, and focussing on the nearest candle flame to ward off the uncomfortable sensation.


	3. 3

When Calben blinked open his eyes the next morning, he was surprised – and mortified – to find that he’d slept long past the morning call. As he rushed out of his tent, he realized he’d missed breakfast for the adults as well – but he was happy to note that a few others that had come with him were also stumbling out of their tents, looking dazed.

He sat next to a grey haired, yellow-eyed child, and smiled at him, digging into his food.

“You’re an elf.” He said matter-of-factly. Calben nodded.

“I am an elf. My name is Calben.” He stuck out his hand to the serious little fellow. The boy shook it twice. “What’s your name?”

“M’names Solei. And I’m 15 years old.” Calben felt his eyebrows jump in surprise.

15? He looked about 8, at most.

“You look young for a 15-year-old.” Calben said, tone coloured with his surprise. The boy laughed.

“I age very slowly. All fae do. The Green Lady is nearly 200 years old.” The Green Lady must’ve been Amilyne. Calben was surprised. Whilst he knew she was older than she seemed, her youthful gaze made it impossible to see her 2 centuries worth of experience.

“Well. That is a surprising fact.” Calben stood, towering over the small boy. “Would you mind telling me where The Lady is?”

“She’s over the hill in the central valley. They’re all building the great hall.” Solei turned away, obviously dismissing him. Calben chuckled to himself and jogged off in the boy’s direction. He was assuming that he meant the dip over the large flat hill where they’d sat for dinner last night.

 

* * *

 

Amilyne knelt beside a large flat plank of elm wood, and a man and elf stooped beside her to help her. With a grunt, she lifted, straining to lift it. The groans from the other two spurred her on, and she pushed harder, finally balancing it so it stood vertically from the ground. It would go up to make the ceiling. Smaller planks would be dispersed along the outside wall every second block of bluestone, so they could plant creeper vines along them. The inside would be furnished in marble – courtesy of Gondor.

It would function as a greeting area, siege hall, and they could eat in there all together if the weather was foul on feast days.

Amilyne had been told they were planning to build her residence just over the small hill behind it, along the bank of one of the smaller rivers. She honestly couldn’t care less, but it had been insisted upon her by one of the appointed city planners. When it was all constructed, she had to think of a name for it as well. And then she had to decide holidays, because – according to Neliran – holidays and festivals were very important to keeping the people happy. Then she had to work out repayment to the kingdoms hat had sent aid. Then she had to work out how her people could sustain themselves – and develop a proper military. Then trade routes. Then-

“My Lady?”

Amilyne blinked out of her frantic thoughts, and focussed on the tall elf that had called her back to reality. “Calben.” She said. “What is it?”

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, so not to draw the attention of the other workers. Amilyne thought about saying yes, but knew it would do no one any good to keep it all bottled up.

“No. I’m not.” She walked a little way from the slowly built hall, and sat on the soft grass of the hill side. “I don’t know what I’m doing Calben. I’m not cut out for ruling. There’s about ten million things I have to do and-”

“With respect, My Lady, you could get help.” She stared at him. “Create a council of people who have experience or are adept at the matters you are not. That way, if you have a problem, you can turn to them for help.”

Amilyne looked almost startled. “I-I must admit… I did not think of that.” Her face grew thoughtful, and she remained silent for a bit, and Calben watched her carefully. Finally – startling him – she clapped her hands together loudly. “That’s it! Calben! Thank you! You’ve done it.”

“Uh, done what, My Lady?”

She simply laughed. “You’ve sorted my dilemma. This kingdom will not be run as a plain monarchy – but by a council, each member responsible for different areas of life – so that they can weigh in. I can still stand to make to final judgement, but each decision and each matter will be considered by many. The people can decide who they would want in each position. That way, there will be no ‘royal’ line to destroy, as was the horror of our last mistake.”

Calben nodded. It certainly made sense. “That sounds reasonable. But what roles will need to be filled?”

 

* * *

 

Three days later, after the completion of the Great Hall, there was an announcement to the people. Many put themselves and others down as they considered the variety of roles their Lady wanted on her council.

Another week after that, the new Council of the Queen were to be announced and everyone – even those on patrol, and all the dwarves, men and elves – gathered in front of the Great Hall, where their Lady was standing atop a bench so that she could be seen.


	4. 4

She cleared her throat and reached into her pocket. She scanned the small scroll and looked to Emmila, who was standing just beside her on the ground. The sweet fae gave her a smile and nod of encouragement, and Amilyne looked into the crowds.

“After much thought, I have decided on seven positions. These people will help me, and help you, run our kingdom smoothly and surely. Firstly, our Grand Maester. The Grand Maester will be considered the senior member of the Council and serves as its representative to the me. He can only be made or unmade by a full vote from the council. The Grand Maester will act as the head adviser on matters of lore and wisdom. Afreid Taelin, if you would please come up…”

There was a cry of congratulations and surprise as the crowd parted to let the aging fae through. His eyes were sparkling with emotion as he clasped Amilyne’s hand firmly, and stood proudly beside the bench.

“My next role to be filled is The Mistress of People. She will be an advisor charged with keeping the me informed of my people’s wishes and queries, and is responsible for the organization and management of holidays and festivals.” There was a rousing cheer, before she could even address her chosen representative. “Haeris Honiple.” The sweet, plump mother of 5, who had light brown hair and light red eyes, almost pink because of her Sunfield blood, shook slightly as she took her place beside Afreid, who gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

“The Mistress of Whisperers is our people’s communications master. She will be responsible for correspondences in and out of the realm, among other duties.” Amilyne had been wary about selecting and sharing too much about this particular Council member, but her people had a right to know. “Gertreude Plyant.” Behind her back, she had been called Gertreude the Greystone, because of her appearance and countenance. The fae in question was a grey eyed, grey haired woman, who was severely beautiful, but very harsh and hard.

“The Master of Laws will become my advisor relating to the administration of justice. Duties of the Master of Laws include managing the dungeons wherever they may be erected, and helping decide and enforce laws.” She smiled at the elf who she was about to call, easily finding him among the people. “Neliran, I call upon you.”

His eyebrows jumped in surprise, but it was the only reaction she got. There was mixed reactions from the crowd. The assembled that hadn’t actually met him were irritated, but those who knew his history with their queen and his personality knew it was a good choice. He bent neatly at the knee as he reached her. “Thank you for the honour.” He said quietly. She gave him another smile as he stood and froze behind his other council members.

“The Master of Coin becomes the chief financial adviser of the realm. Duties of the Master of Coin will include keeping account of the receipts and expenditures, receiving reports from officials, supervising the collection of taxes and custom duties, borrowing money, and, trade with other kingdoms.” She winced before she announced the name. “Theyron Grohndin.” A notoriously frugal and greedy man, he was well known for his family’s wealth simply from his extreme money habits. The thin and lean, vaguely fox like man bowed before her. His green eyes and white hair shone in the bright sun.

“Our very own Gillos Nereid has been in training and training others for his position. As I understand, there is already a name for our military, which I also understands, grows near daily…” she tried to look disapproving, but couldn’t stop the grin as there was a rousing chant of ‘ _GREEN ARMY! GREEN ARMY!’_ “I appoint Gillos Nereid as the Lord Commander of the Green Army–” the loud cheers cut herself before she could go any further, and the pale fae was uncharacteristically blushing, rivalling his eyes’ red. “This title is held by the most trustworthy and highest ranked of the Green Army, the loyal and fierce army sworn to protect their queen’s and realm’s interests.” More hoots and yells followed her read out, and Gillos ducked his head as she hugged him quickly. He clasped his hands behind his back as he stood straight, staring ahead.

“And finally… Hand of the Queen. The queen’s chief advisor and executor of my command in the realm. Duties of the Hand include helping me and the council – primarily me – commanding the army, drafting laws, dispensing justice, and generally managing me, whilst I attempt to manage the day-to-day running of the kingdom. The Hand may act on my behalf when I am indisposed, and The Hand also sits on the small council and will run the council if I am not present.” A hush fell across the assembled crowd as she paused for slight effect. “Calben. Please. You are the only one I know and trust to perform in the position.”

The look of surprise and shock on Calben’s face was almost comical. He swallowed at the eyes on him, but stepped forward. “Thank you, my lady.”

They gripped each other’s wrist, Calben’s grip almost painfully tight. Amilyne followed him with her eyes until he had taken his place with the other council members. Amilyne bowed her head and stepped down, and the crowd cheered automatically, and she allowed the Council to filter in before her. There was still much to do.

 

* * *

 

Legolas was nearing the borders of Rivendell when he was visited by a messenger bird he hadn’t seen for a long time. The Jaeger swooped down without fear, and landed on his horse’s saddle, and chirped at him, holding out a leg.

Unable to stop the small smile spreading across his face, Legolas pulled out the tightly wound scroll and untied it. His eyes flew to the name at the bottom of the letter first, familiar to him in a way that was hard to define.

_Amilyne Syldriad_

Smiling even wider than before, he stopped his horse, although it probably didn’t need the rest. Legolas had been moving slower than he’d ever travelled before, not including his visit into Lothlorien. Galadriel hadn’t been there, and he hadn’t asked where she was, too focussed on his self-restorative period of time spent with distant relatives of his mother. It had been a good six months since he’d heard much word from or about the fae, but he knew that construction of their kingdom had begun in the Enedwaith lands, long unclaimed and uninhabited.


	5. 5

He sat himself under the shade of a tree, whose branches spanned the width of the road. He traced the name at the bottom once, before he let his eyes wander to the first sentence.

_To my friend Legolas._

_I would hope that you have not thought I have forgotten you – or my promise. Unfortunately, this is not an invitation yet, as our township is not nearly finished construction. It is, however, an update on the progress._

_I admit, I was wary at first to send for help – much less accept it – but the continued generosity from the Gondor men, the dwarves, and the varying elvish parties has been near overwhelming, and completely surprising. We are growing in strength and hope, and although we remain as solidly fae population, many invitations to join our people have been accepted._

_We have finished completing our outdoor seating, and public centre, and also our Great Hall, which royal audiences will mostly be held in. Work on the various housing is underway, but we have yet to construct many farms, or any food resourcing solutions from the surrounding rivers and nearby forest – which I am understandably worried about._

_I have no doubt I will be content in a few years, but that remains to be seen. I wish that I could see you sooner, but I want to be sure that it will impress you, Legolas. Besides – years are but blinks of the eye for an elf as yourself._

_I hope to hear from you soon._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Amilyne Syldriad._

Legolas was simultaneously excited and disappointed. And he honestly couldn’t put his finger on why.

Perhaps it was because he would not be seeing the little fae for another long time, and yet – he could see how happy her people’s progress was making her.

He pulled out some parchment so that he could respond immediately, whilst his emotions were still fresh.

Minutes later, he watched the Jaeger bird fly up and out of sight.

 

* * *

 

Amilyne nodded to Theyron’s suggestion – only half-listening to what he had been saying.

She had been too distracted by thoughts of a blonde elf.

Legolas.

She’d dreamt of him last night. It had been odd to see him so vividly in her mind after all the time they’d spent apart. She realized it had been a good month since she’d sent her letter to him, and despite her outward calm, she was worried about him. What if something had happened?

She bit her lip, glancing towards the large stained glass window. It was hard to see out of, but a small patch of clear glass in the corner gave her a glimpse of the grey sky. The rainy season was soon to hit the grasslands, and she was anxious about completing enough housing before the rains really came.

Although the rain was sorely needed. Their crops that had been planted were surviving, but it was hard to water them, and the rains would give them a much needed drink.

They were planning to have a festival with the first day of rain, and she was already dreading the clean-up.

“Amilyne?”

A large hand touched her shoulder gently, and she was brought out of her mind by the worried gaze of Calben. She gave him a wan smile. “I’m alright. Just preoccupied.” She looked to the other members of the Small Council. “I apologize for my distractedness of late. I find that I am sleeping less, and worrying more, I am afraid.” She bowed her head apologetically.

Calben and Haeris gave her comforting smiles. Gertreude sniffed slightly, but her hard face was softened in sympathy. “It is understandable, my Lady. Running a kingdom is not easy work. Perhaps if we re-adjourn in two days?”

“I agree. A break would do us all good.” Neliran said decidedly. They all looked to Amilyne.

“Agreed. I’ll see you all here in two days. Keep this matter suspended until then.” She said easily. They all bowed and left – with the exception of Calben, who remained behind with her.

She sighed, and looked up the window again. It really was beautiful. A gift from the glass worker dwarves from Moria. It was the most intricate design of a garden. Flowers and leaves twined around each other, surrounding a small pond in the middle. Hills and mountains could be seen in the distant horizon. They’d put it in so that light would shine through it directly on to the throne in the end of the hall. She could see it from the Council Table behind the Throne and marble dais.

“What is really on your mind?” Calben asked her.

She looked at him tiredly. “As I said. Matters of state, the festival, the trade with Gondor. My upcoming visit to Rohan.”

“And… aside from the running of the kingdom. What weighs upon your thoughts?”

She looked at him sharply for a few seconds before relenting. “You are too shrewd.” She shook her head, chuckling. “It is rather embarrassing really. I am worried about Prince Legolas. I have not heard from him in some time.”

Calben nodded, face unreadable. “Well you mustn’t give up hope. I’m sure his letter will come back soon.”

Amilyne nodded, but stayed silent, until he too left the table, and she heard him exiting the hall. She sighed, and lowered her head to her folded arms, resting her forehead against the cool surface of the stone hewn table.

 

* * *

 

It was strange. She’d been in Council meetings almost continuously – and not sleeping for the other time – that she hadn’t had the time to really explore her ‘royal’ apartments.

It was similar to many of the other houses – but bigger and more detailed. It was a cottage, open to a small space of land, then the river was down the bank. Someone had put up a fence, and there was a garden in the front and down the left side. The right was taken up mostly by a large river oak tree. There was a bench next to the tree, that looked down to the river. It had been set up on a calm stretch of water, although she knew that the water grew ferocious and foamy further down. She was planning to plant lupines around her property, and she had collected bulbs already from the surrounding hills.

She’d spotted what appeared to be sunflower sprouting from the borders of what she, and her people, considered their land. Almost like the flowers that would grow around Faelindale’s borders. She smiled slightly. Perhaps their magic had followed them here. The planation and crops had been growing exceedingly well, for the short period of time they’d been here.

 

* * *

 

The inside was quite high ceilinged for her, but she supposed because elves were now a part of the community, they’d added the height for their comfort.

Her bedroom overlooked the river, with a small balcony, with steps coming off it to get down to the river back. Currently, the large sliding wooden doors were closed, and it was stuffy. She swung them open, and pushed the gossamer and heavier layer of curtains to the side, feeling a small breeze blow in. it ruffled the canopy above her bed, and she also opened the smaller windows on her wall that showed her mostly bare garden.

She walked through the house, opening all the windows, or drawing back the curtains. It was a light and airy house, once the daylight was allowed in. The kitchen was directly connected to the front sitting area, with bookshelves ready to be filled. Past that was the front door and the small porch.

There was another private study, and a slightly smaller bedroom further back in the cottage, the study just off her bedroom, and bathroom, which was furnished in marble and bluestone. It even had a large tub in the corner.

The study was less open, but a large window behind the desk let in a lot of light.

 

* * *

 

Amilyne kept herself busy over the next two days. She had decided to spend some time on herself, and her house and garden. She had set up firewood supplies right next to the house, and had already planted half of her garden.

The sunset of her second – and last – free day saw her cradling a mug of hot wine on her back balcony. The river was orange and gold with the light of the sun.

Noise from her front gate opening made her snap out of her drowsy state, and she set down her mug, and jumped off the balcony, walking up around the oak tree to the front.

Emmila was waiting patiently for her on the front porch. She smiled as Amilyne came into view, no doubt having heard her approach from the back. “My lady. You’re looking… well.” She said.

Amilyne inclined her head. “Thank you. I feel well. What is it?” she asked. Whilst Emmila’s presence wasn’t unusual, it was unexpected at sunset.

Amilyne’s cottage’s whereabouts hadn’t been disclosed to the general populace, but sometimes wanderers would pass by, and Amilyne would accept their help in whatever project she was taken up in. it was out of respect – she assumed – that crowds did not swarm her, and so she took the time to talk to whoever stopped by. Emmila had been frequent in her mealtime visits, and the two often dined together, except for dinner, when Amilyne ate alone.

Emmila held up a bound scroll. “This came with a Jaeger. For you, My lady.”

Amilyne frowned slightly as she took the scroll. “Thank you, Emmila. I’ll see you early tomorrow, before the Council meeting.”

Taking the dismissal, Emmila smiled and curtseyed, and headed back out of the gate, and disappeared over the slight hill that obscured Amilyne’s view of the rest of the people, except for the top of the Great Hall. She had sometimes seen some of Gillos’ men patrolling at night when she looked out of her windows the past few nights.

She headed back into the house, fetching her cooled mead, and closing up all the windows she liked to have open during the day, excepting her large sliding doors. She built up the fire, and sat down on her bed, the curtains blowing slightly, and the fire warming in the corner.

She unrolled the scroll and almost dropped it in surprise.

“Legolas…” the name fell from her lips absently.

_Dear Amilyne,_

_I am glad to hear from you, and of your efforts and achievements._

_I had never the faintest thought of you forgetting about me or your promise – in fact, I am happy to note that you still think of me. I am currently on my way to Rivendell. I have received knowledge about a young boy living there of significant importance – but I dare not say more over letter._

_Not that I am untrusting of your fine Jaegers, but I cannot be sure that this will find you unopened._

_I have also heard rumour of your friendship with the Lady Galadriel – a high honour._

_This past year and a half has been filled with – I regret to note – aimless wanderings. I admit I was mostly directionless, but I think that the thought of seeing your new land will sustain a bit longer, as will my Rivendell visit._

_My thoughts and hopes are with you, my friend._

_Legolas._

Amilyne laughed delightedly, and re-read the letter. He was alive, and well, and even off to see someone important. She slept easily that night, and the letter rested beside her on the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

Amilyne was dreading her audience with the elderly king of Rohan. It was because of his failing heart, that she had been asked to hold audience with him in Rohan, instead of him coming to her.

Whilst she was leader of her people, and respected as such – she wasn’t sure how she’d be receipted in a kingdom of men – where they could figuratively, and literally, look down on her. She pondered the matter for a little while longer, before she forced herself to get out of bed. There were no council meetings today – for her, Gillos, and Calben anyway. The others would hold two meetings in her absence, and it would be the first test to see how the lack of the queen would sit with the people. She was confident that Neliran would be able to keep the others in check.

Emmila had told her she wasn’t to touch anything – because ‘she was sure to pack the wrong dresses’. Amilyne rolled her eyes at the thought of her sweet but occasionally bossy companion. She had told Amilyne that she’d be there at 5:00 am sharp, to get her ready. It was a three days’ easy ride to Rohan, 1 and a half – If one wanted to kill their horse. They would take the North-South road, to make the journey easier, especially considering that they were travelling near orc infested land.

Gillos had insisted on bringing 20 men with them – for protection and to help with camp. Amilyne had to resist the urge to remind him that she’d travelled by herself for 3 years once. But it was a party of 24 that would ride out just as the sun rose.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts, and she opened the door – and a large wad of fabric was thrust at her roughly, as Emmila strode in. Her eyebrows jumped at Amilyne’s bedhead. The green waves tended to get slightly crazy when she slept, and Amilyne surreptitiously tried to smooth down a snarl of green curls. From Emmila’s heavy sigh, she assumed she’d failed.

 

* * *

 

Amilyne watched in her large mirror as she was transformed under Emmila’s skilful hands. What was once untameable knots, was pulled back and away into a neat fishtail braid. Her face was then cleaned and moisturised with some kind of rose lotion, and her lips stained with some blackberry dye, giving them a purple-red look that set off her eyes.

Then she was forced into a grey riding dress, with a white underskirt. It had long sleeves that were quite loose and exposed her shoulders, collarbone, and accidentally, a hint of her cleavage. Emmila was frozen for a second, then she huffed. “I should have asked you for your measurements, my lady.” She said, sounding put out, and put upon, “It’s really very inappropriate.”

Amilyne shrugged. “I don’t mind it. Perhaps it will give the king a heart-attack and a handsome new king will take his place.” Emmila sighed again.

“My lady, you will not be wearing this to see the king. You’ll be dressed like the Queen you are. Not… not this.”

Amilyne smiled, “I trust you to make me look perfect, Emmila.” The young fae flushed, and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The air got colder as they moved further away from the kingdom – which Amilyne had yet to put a name to – despite the warming sun on their backs.

“It’s almost like a second beginning… like another life!” One of the guards ahead spoke happily to his friend.

 _Like another life_.

Amilyne sat bolt upright as inspiration struck her. “Ah hah!” she exclaimed loudly – making Gillos, Emmila, and the five closest men turn to look at her worriedly. She beamed at them. “I have a name for our realm. Saoleile!”

Gillos sounded it out hesitantly. “Say-oh-lay?” Emmila cocked her head. Gillos nodded. “A fine idea, My Lady.”

Happy with the decision, and with the approval of those around her, Amilyne rode onwards, mind under a little less stressed.

 

* * *

 

Rohan was cold.

Beautiful, but cold.

The King had his people lay out banners of welcome, and they were watched by half excited crowds as they made their way up to the great throne room. They were to greet the king, then rest for the welcome feats.

Emmila tugged on Amilyne’s hair frantically, trying to get it under control.

“ _Flowers… Why did I think flowers were a good idea – I should have brought the silver tiara. Not these-”_

“Emmila!” Amilyne stopped her companion’s frantic words sharply. “I like the flowers – and you have done brilliantly – to make this lowly minstrel look like a queen. I trust any decision you make.”

Emmila flushed darkly, almost the same colour as her dusky rose dress. “I’m sorry, my lady. And thank you for your kind words.” Amilyne bowed her head, one hand keeping the crown of white roses and green leaves on her head.

“No apology needed. Now, let us greet a king.”

Amilyne led the way up the steps, and two men opened the doors to her, eyes wide. A fae hadn’t been seen in Rohan for many years.

The throne room was warm, and Amilyne pulled a dignified smile onto her face as she entered the hall. It was very different to anything she’d ever seen, but she kept the gawking to herself, heading purposely for the king, whilst trying to keep her walk graceful.

She fell back on her performing roots – how would she pretend to be a Queen?

“Presenting, Her Majesty of the newly erected fae kingdom, friend of elves, companion of the royal Durin line, defender of Middle Earth, warrior and leader, the Queen Amilyne Syldriad.”

A small man read out from a scroll, bowing to her as he did so.

“My lady.” The king stood. “It is an honour to have you grace our halls so soon after your coronation.”

Amilyne’s eyes flashed to Calben. _Coronation?_

He gave a little nod and a look. She looked back at the King. “I thank you for receiving me, King Fengel. I would hope that my visit cements a fast friendship between the Rohirrim and the fae.”

He smiled easily. “Indeed.” he descended the steps, wheezing slightly as he approached her. He held out his arm, and she clasped it, closing her hand mostly around his wrist. He did the same, enclosing her completely in his grasp. “Here is to friendship, my lady.”

 

* * *

 

Amilyne laughed delightedly at Fengel’s story – the men of Rohan were a raucous, joyful bunch – and their king was no exception.

“Come now, come now.” Fengel smiled at her laughter, “I have been told you were a part of the Durin’s quest for their homeland. You must tell me a tale from that journey.”

“Hmmm…” Amilyne racked her memory, trying to find something light to touch upon. She was still raw, and hated to dwell on any of it – but the King had requested. She perked up as remembered something. “Ah, yes. I have one…

“There were 15 of us in the company, and we had just survived an escape from the elven prison of Mirkwood. The situation seemed dire – there were orcs on our trail, and we had no means of transport into Laketown, and then onto the great mountain…”

The night grew darker as Amilyne regaled her eager listeners with the story. She felt at ease now – she was a performer, a storyteller, a music maker. This was what she was good at.

“Surrounding us on all sides were stinking fish – and you can imagine the faces of the two royals in our party – even as stoic and tough as Thorin was, I’m sure his royal highness was _not_ pleased to be covered in the catch of the day!”

“… And so we hear, the bargeman – our last and only hope – being besieged by this rat of a man, and then one by one, the barrels begin to be tilted. We were sure to be exposed, so I closed my eyes and prayed. I prayed that I would not be discovered, that I would be left alone. Thankfully I was. Of course I regretted it straight away, considering when I opened my eyes again, I came eye to eye with a fish…”

 

* * *

 

 

Amilyne left the warm halls with an odd sensation of relief. In telling those stories, she had come to realize that the journey had not been all misery, and that there were moments of joy.

She stripped, and lowered herself into the hot bath that had been prepared for her with a low sigh of relief.

For a second, she though she saw Kili’s face in the darkness beyond the bath’s steam.

Too much dwelling on the past for one night.

She sank beneath the bathwater, letting the water heat her face and mute her thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

They left Rohan on the eve of the next fortnight – and Amilyne was anxious to get back to Saoleile; this was the longest she’d been away, and she could only hope that the council had functioned without her.

Fengel was very sick – and privately, Amilyne did not think he would last the month; especially with the lifestyle he lived. But she had liked the man, well enough that she had been sorry to say goodbye. Hopefully his son was as likeable.

She had been quite surprised to hear about all the gossip that came with asking about the absent Crown Prince – but as she had been warned, a foreigner like herself shouldn’t ask too many questions about that sensitive topic.

But he would return at the event of his father’s death.

She satisfied herself with that knowledge – he couldn’t stay a mystery forever.

 

* * *

 

“ _My Lady!”_

“ _They have returned!”_

_“The Lady is back!”_

_“Quickly! They’re here!”_  
  


Amilyne could hear the call from her people as they approached Saoleile, and spurred Chosscáth into a gallop, eager to see the progress made. Even in the short time they’d been away – just two days’ shy of a month – she could see that the borders, marked by sunflowers, and a mess of other greenery, had started to grow vigorously.

Hopefully that meant that the crops just within the borders had started to take firmer root. She had been sad to miss the first rains whilst she had been gone – but the Jaeger sent by Neliran said that the festival had gone without a hitch.

Just as she crested the hilly border, she saw the crowd of her people approaching her, some running, some walking towards her.

_They looked so full, so lively. Bright eyes and bright smiles on each and every one of them._

The rain had done all of Saoleile good.

She lifted a hand and waved. There was a cheer, and she ducked her head, as the rest of her party caught up to her.

Neliran stood near the back of the crowd, and despite the distance – she could easily pick out the golden haired elf. Her smile widened at the sight of Afreid beside him.

Her old mentor winked at her as she walked with the rest of her party down and into the crowd, which retaining the exuberance, not wanting to give way. She frowned – Amilyne didn’t fancy accidentally hurting someone.

As if sensing her slight distress, Gillos raised a hand, “Move along now! Disperse! They’ll be time for greeting at the feast tonight! Move along.”

There was a slight outcry – but at the slight shift in Amilyne’s expression – those nearest to her began to back off, and like a domino effect, the crowd dispersed slowly.

She dismounted and led her horse forward, letting some of her party draw ahead.

“Would you like me to take her, My Lady?” she looked up at the request from Emmila, who was looking thankful to be home. “I’ll be heading straight for a bath, My Lady, and the stables are on the way.” She suggested.

Amilyne looked at Calben, who was obviously itching to get out of his dirty riding leathers as well. She also didn’t miss the desiring look he shot Emmila. She smirked. “Thank you, my dear. Take Calben with you. Chosscáth can get a little antsy sometimes.”

Calben raised his eyebrows at her, flushing. He knew that Chosscáth did nothing of the sort. At her head nod, he sighed and followed Emmila, who had quickly nodded and left her side. Amilyne didn’t miss the blush that had spread across her handmaiden’s cheeks however.

 

* * *

 

Amilyne made her way over to the two council members still waiting at the entrance to the kingdom’s central. Behind her, Gillos finished up his barked orders – both at the men who had accompanied them, and at the soldier who had waited for his orders.

He dismounted next to her. “My Lady, if you were not needing any other assistance…”

Amilyne smiled at him. “I’m quite alright, Gillos. You have been remarkably vigilant. Go rest up for tonight’s feast.” He nodded sharply, and headed forward.

Gillos reached Neliran first, and she was interested to see the sudden bright light that lit up Neliran’s eyes as he grasped the fae’s forearm in a display of welcome. She hid her smile as she reached them, nodding to Neliran and Afreid.

“How fares our lovely Saoleile?”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the year passed quickly – for there was almost no time to sit and feel time passing as slowly as it should have.

Thengel had ascended the throne and taken a wife – and there were rumours of her already being pregnant. Galadriel had visited once again – and despite her continued pressure, Amilyne still hadn’t started to wear Ithir.

Amilyne and her council were occupied near every day with matters of state – and when they weren’t they would all be helping to build Saoleile, hoping to have housing completely finished by the new year.

Not only was the flora of Saoleile blooming – but so was romance.

The spark Amilyne had seen between Calben and Emmila was still there, just shy of bursting into flame – both because of their separately busy schedules, and the shyness that was a large part of Emmila’s personality.

But on the other hand, Neliran and Gillos had quietly moved into together, and were often spotted emerging from deserted rooms or behind rocks looking distinctively dishevelled.

Why they didn’t just keep their thirst at home was beyond Amilyne – but the amusement she got from ‘accidentally’ disturbing them was enough to make her half-pleased they didn’t.

It also appeared that the population was slowly increasing – or would soon increase dramatically.

She wondered if there was something in the water – but she herself hadn’t experienced any particular urges or feelings, the like of which seemed to be everywhere.

In fact, if anything, she felt more shrivelled by the day – as if with the blooming of affection and love around her, it was being sucked out of her.

Every time she caught Emmila ducking away bashfully at a sweet comment from Calben, or she watched as Neliran discreetly escorted Gillos out of the Council Chamber, or one of Haeris’ children and her husband stopped by – she felt more and more shrunken.

Kili and Neridha lingered in her mind – as did another.

One she didn’t dare mention aloud any more, for fear the dreams of him would come spilling out at the mere instance of his name.

But that didn’t stop her from missing all of them with an ache so fierce she occasionally woke with tears on her cheeks, and sobs wracking her chest.

 

* * *

 

“My Lady, have you considered your, ah, lack of… heirs?”

Amilyne looked sharply over at Gertreude, who was looking at her with a questioning look in her eyes. Slowly, she looked around the rest of the marble table, and found that the whole of her council were waiting for her response. Apparently this had been discussed prior to her arrival.

She swallowed thickly, eyes darting to a figure standing in the corner.

_Kili’s pipe briefly illuminated his grinning features. He raised an eyebrow, spurring her to answer._

Calben’s eyes followed her gaze, frowning as he found nothing.

Amilyne closed her eyes as the curve of Kili’s face was replaced with something much more sharp and graceful.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling loudly.

Finally, she looked up.

“I have not.”

 _Only a half-lie_.

Afreid leant forwards. “My Lady, I understand that your Annam-Bana-”

“No you don’t.” Amilyne surprised herself with her sharp reply. “You don’t understand what it is like to lose someone like that. To feel a bit of yourself die with them. To know that nothing will ever be the same again.”

There was silence – all that could be heard was her own shaky breathing as she fought to keep herself under control.

Finally, she spoke; “My apologies. I should not have behaved in such a manner. I misspoke.” She rose to her feet, “Please excuse me.”

With that, she swept from the chamber, ears ringing and eyes burning.


End file.
